start . . .
have few memories of her, but I have special, vivid memories I hold on to. I remember the first time I heard her heartbeat. I remember various dresses I wore while I was pregnant with her. And I remember the ultrasound that told us she was perfect and she was heart healthy. I vividly remember wishing one day I had more time to take care of my daughter who just had surgeries before our new little one was born, and the next day she was born, but in such silence.
I vividly remember the contractions as I drove my daughter to a post-op check-up with a frend while we had sick kids at home. It’s still vivid, these 14 years later, in the doctors office, thinking my water broke, to find out I was hemorrhaging. I vividly remember the peace. There was not fear. It did not cross my mind my baby was already in heaven. And when they placed the scanner on my belly and could not find a heartbeat and softly told me she was gone, the peace stayed and I comforted my friend. I remember the doctors telling me my life was in danger and they wanted my husband there as soon as possible. My in-laws got there before my husband, and I vividly remember my mother-in-law’s shock and “oh no” when I told her the news. And I remember things starting to fade as I went in and out of a fog and my blood pressure was bottoming out and they were pumping me full of fluids and hoping for my husband’s quick arrival. When he finally came in the room, he was put in immediate shock and I was whisked away for an emergency c-section to save my life. Before I left, I remember vividly asking my mom-in-law, “what if I don’t make it” and she told me “you have to . . . . you will.” It’s still vivid leaving my husband who stood and stared at me, not knowing what to do and say, and we told each other that we love each other.
And it seemed minutes later I was woken up, and before I could even open my eyes I asked if she was really gone. It probably was a last hope they just missed her heartbeat. They told me I had a girl, she was beautiful and yes, she was gone. I asked to see her, hold her, and soon, Angela Hope was placed in my arms. A few weeks later the funeral home gave me her clothes she wore, including a little hat. It was not vivid in my mind when she was handed to me, I whipped it off, and said “she doesn’t need to keep her head warm.” I was in critical condition from all the blood I lost and the doctor stayed by my side for hours after the surgery in case he had to go back and do a hysterectomy. When I asked this doctor whom I had never met before if I could have more children, I vividly remember him telling me “God will fill your quiver”.
The memories of holding her in the hospital are not all vivid. But our funeral director/friend told us later to MAKE MEMORIES since they are limited and so we did, holding her, counting her toes, and taking pictures. I vividly remember the smell of her make-up on me. I have a little bottle of it in my dresser and I still “smell her” some days.
And I vividly remember the long line of cars following behind us as we drove her little body to the cemetery, and thinking, she was born on the 25th anniversary date of Roe vs Wade and so many innocent lives thrown away, but all these dear ones are remembering this precious brief life on earth they never knew and how we need to also remember the little ones who went to heaven with no celebration of life.
Someday my knowing her will not fade anymore and in heaven she will be brilliantly vivid as she stands next to Jesus and her big brother, Matthew. I look forward to that . . .
(yes, I lost track of time . . . and doubled my five minutes . . . )
This Sunday is Sanctity of Life Sunday . . . the 39th anniversary of Roe vs Wade. In the USA over 50 MILLION babies have been killed by abortion. As we remember these precious life gifts heaven holds, I also remember the moms who have empty arms, and long for the baby in their arms that Jesus holds.
Joining Gypsy Mama and her Five Minute Friday.